


Recovery

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [41]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Blood Kink, Blood Magic, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not responsible for that, M/M, Nightmares, Supernatural AU - Freeform, gene is a badass, hunter dick winters, it's their fault, strange UST, vampire nix, witch gene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: Eventually, Gene picked himself up off the bathroom floor.
Relationships: Eugene Roe & Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters
Series: What We Do In The Dark [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1366063
Comments: 28
Kudos: 72





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Servena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/gifts).

> For Servena: Glad to hear you're feeling better <3

Eventually, Gene picked himself up off the bathroom floor.

He rinsed his hands and face in the sink, erasing the blood and tearstains. Then he rearranged his bandage and laid a gentle hand over it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and centered himself.

Despite his utter physical and emotional exhaustion, Gene dragged himself back to the large, soft bed in the middle of the room and settled his aching body against it. His stomach growled and ached, so he retrieved the pack of crackers he’d bought from the convenience store and settled back against the headboard. 

His head ached, his eyes ached, his stomach ached, but he nibbled slowly on the dry, crumbling crackers. After a couple, his stomach started to cramp—he’d gone too long without food and now his stomach was rebelling against him. Grimacing, Gene set the rest of the pack aside—he didn’t want to push his luck and make himself sick. 

He sat on the bed for a few minutes more, simply observing the room—it was tastefully decorated and very comfortable, with dim, golden lamp light, and pristine except for the smears of blood he’d painted on the walls and door. The wards would hold. 

Gene might not be able to fight off a vampire in his state, but he could definitely keep one out. The wards would hold. He was fine. He was safe. And even though he was angry and confused, and yes… _betrayed_, even though he had no right to feel that way—he had to believe that Dick was a man of his word. Gene had never been wrong about a person’s nature before, and he had to believe that he wasn’t now. That it was a misunderstanding. A stupid mistake. 

He had to believe that he wasn’t on his own here. Because if he was….

Gene put the thought out of his mind. 

The wards would hold.

Sighing heavily, Gene trudged back to the bathroom and got himself a drink of water from the tap before flicking off the bathroom light. Then, knowing that he wouldn’t get any safer than this, and knowing how badly he needed a good night’s sleep, Gene pulled the hoodie over his head and shucked his sweatpants so that he was down to a t-shirt and boxers, then he crawled between the divinely soft, cool sheets, settled into the nest of pillows and blankets, and turned the bedside lamp off.

Settling on his side, Gene pressed a hand over his wound, closed his eyes, and focused all of his energy, finally, on healing himself. He began to murmur his grandmother’s favorite healing prayer. 

The words still on his lips, Gene finally allowed himself to be swallowed by sleep.

* * *

_The darkness was full, crowded, and there were so many monsters inside it. A demon wearing Edward’s face sauntered up to him, grin in place, eyes-pitch black. It reached for Gene, and God help him, he let it. He didn’t fight. Not when the thing ran Edward’s fingers over Gene’s face, fluttering. Not when the same hands curled around his throat, choking. Not when it leaned forward, chuckled darkly, and kissed him. _

_Gene pressed the knife in, deep, and twisted, but the thing kept kissing him. Kissing him as blood pooled in their mouths. Kissing him, as blood, slick and warm, coated Gene’s fingers. Kissed him until, finally, when it pulled back, its face crumpled and it was Edward again, tears dripping from his cinnamon lashes, hands fluttering to the jutting blade, voice thick as he said “Gene…I thought you’d save me? How…how could you?”_

_But Gene simply stabbed him again. And again. _

_When he stumbled to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror and, horrified, his reflection smiled back at him, serene. “Didn’t think it’d be that easy, did ya?” His reflection drawled, and he realized he couldn’t control his own body anymore. He leaned toward the mirror, eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy, “God, you feel good,” his voice murmured, “Just like I thought you would.”_

_He blinked and then he was looking at Nixon’s reflection, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He grinned and his eyes went black. _

_Then his reflection was his own again, and that was worse, because it WASN’T HIM, but he smiled at himself, rolled his shoulders leisurely and cracked his neck _just so_. His hands were covered in blood. Edward’s blood. Thick and hot, and all over him. OH GOD, all up his arms, flecking his clothes, flecking his face. He raised his hands to his face, smeared the blood down his cheeks, his chin, his neck, until his fingers trailed down his chest, and he murmured, low, sultry, in the back of his throat, “Perfect. We’re gonna have a good time.”_

He woke, gasping.

The nightmare was the kind that lingered, even after he pulled the curtains open and let in the daylight. Outside, a browning lawn stretched out before him to a dense tree line. It was quiet.

He staggered into the bathroom, and might’ve been sick, but he held it down, knowing that he couldn’t afford _that _kind of pain. Not now.

He flinched when he looked in the mirror, but he made himself do it anyhow, just to prove that it was really him. That he was alone. That he was himself. He took a deep, steadying breath, and shucked his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side. Next came the bandage, peeling it away gently. Below, slightly crusted in old blood, his stitches arced across skin that was fully healed. Gene sighed, shoulders slumping. Fingers, still shaken from the nightmare, dragged softly against the new scar—jagged and ugly, but healed.

The stitches’d have to come out, now.

He kept a pair of scissors in his pack, and he retrieved them, all business. Standing in front of the mirror and gazing down at himself, Gene did his best to cut the stitches out. 

It burned and pulled and tweaked, and he winced once or twice, but he finally got the job done.

Without wasting any time dwelling on the lingering pain, Gene stepped out of his shorts and twisted the knob of the shower on.

The spray was cold, at first, as he stepped under it, but it warmed quickly, the old pipes of the house whining just slightly. The shower was nicer than what he was used to and the water pressure was great. In that moment, it didn’t matter to him that he’d slept in a vampire’s house, or that he was enjoying his shower right now, either.

Gene hadn’t been clean, or whole, in days. But the medication had finally been purged from his system and his senses were working again. His wounds were healed, his mind was focused, and he felt like himself again.

Which was good. Because he had a lot to accomplish. And not much time.

He took longer in the shower than he might’ve, but still he was economical about it. 

He washed away all the blood and hospital smell.

When Gene pulled clean clothes on a few minutes later, his mind was clear.

* * *

Dick stared at the door, feeling that twist of _guilt _and anxiety in his belly once more—it’d made itself at home since the night before. Eventually, he’d fallen asleep in the hallway, though his unconscious mind had been plagued with nightmares still—Lip, in the hands of a demon that was doing God knows what to him. Gene, bleeding out on a barroom floor again. Nix turning his back on Dick.

It wasn’t a good night, and Dick was relieved when the rising sun roused him from those depths. He’d dragged his stiff, aching body from the floor and gone in to press a gentle kiss to Nix’s forehead, where it peeked out of a pile of blankets. Nix stretched, reaching for him, and Dick tangled their fingers together for a long moment, savoring the contact, before he pulled away and set about starting his day.

After a quick shower to scrub off the grime of the last few days, Dick dressed and headed downstairs to dig through the fridge and see what he could make for breakfast. As he gazed at the shelves, he was impressed, again, and felt warmth suffuse his belly when he realized that his wonderful, loyal, vampire lover had not only gotten the books Dick had asked for, he’d stopped at a grocery store as well and picked up enough food for the humans who would be staying at his house. There was milk and orange juice. The fixings for coffee. Eggs and bread and bacon. Oatmeal, presumably for Gene, and yogurt too. Dick’s stomach twisted again—Nix had thought of Gene. That much was obvious.

Putting that extra dose of guilt out of his mind, Dick focused on trying to figure out what exactly Gene might be able to eat. Despite the man’s insistence that he healed fast, Dick couldn’t imagine he’d be up for much less than 3 days after being stabbed in the stomach and undergoing surgery. In fact, he was pretty sure the man should still be hooked up to an IV line, receiving sustenance that way. Circumstances dictated otherwise, however, and so Dick would have to do what he could. So.

Dick decided to give Gene the benefit of the doubt and he cooked up some scrambled eggs, hoping the man would be able to take at least a few bites without doing too much damage. He’d at least be able to handle milk, right?

After Dick had cooked their breakfast and set the table, he realized there was no good reason for putting off the inevitable any longer. It was time to face the music and try to put things to rights.

So, he found himself standing in front of the guest room door, hesitant, but hopeful, as he raised his hand and knocked. A moment later, the door pulled open and Dick rocked back on his heels in shock.

Gene stood before him, tall and straight, shoulders back, without even the hint of a pained hunch. His color was better—he was still pale but it looked less like he was dying now. He was clean, freshly showered by the looks of his still-damp blue-black hair. And he was back in his own clothes again, jeans and a dark t-shirt. He regarded Dick with a quirked brow—the flat, impassive line of his mouth gave nothing away.

Dick was shocked by the overnight transformation—gone was the pained, anxious man from the night before, and in his place was what he assumed Gene was usually like: put together, competent-looking, and radiating power that even Dick could feel. He cleared his throat. “Morning.” He greeted, for lack of anything better.

Gene dipped his head slightly. “Mornin’.”

Dick shoved his hands in his pockets. “I made breakfast, if you want to try to eat something.” Gene regarded him carefully, face still giving nothing away. Dick cleared his throat. “And we can, uh, talk.”

Gene sighed, giving a slight nod, and stepped forward into the hallway. “Alright.”

As they made their way to the kitchen, Dick was distinctly aware of the feel of Gene’s eyes on the back of his neck and his presence behind him.

In the kitchen, he motioned for Gene to take a seat at the table and he watched, fascinated but still boggled by the fact that the man was able to sit without even a wince of pain—just the night before he’d been hunched in the passenger seat, arms wrapped protectively around his middle. And now he looked a bit tired, maybe, and in need of some sunshine and a hearty meal, but really no worse for wear.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d be able to eat,” Dick said, bustling back over to the counter. “I made some eggs. How are you feeling?”

Gene shrugged a shoulder casually, though his eyes, still fixed on Dick, belied the expression. “’M fine now. Eggs sound good. Thank you.”

“Sure.” Dick said, loading up two plates of food. He could feel Gene’s eyes on the side of his face—no, his neck—again, could feel the man’s gaze slide across his skin, assessing. When Dick turned to him, he was discreet enough to pretend he hadn’t been staring. Dick supposed he couldn’t be too upset by it since he’d been doing the same thing. “Milk?” He asked.

Gene nodded. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Dick set Gene’s plate on the table then poured him a glass of milk before settling with his own breakfast. Dick’s stomach still twisted with anxiety, made worse now by Gene’s miraculous recovery. He watched as Gene speared some scrambled eggs on his fork and ate them delicately. The man’s lashes fluttered, gratefully, with each bite and Dick was happy he’d decided to make them. As far as he knew, Gene hadn’t eaten in at least three days. He was debating with himself on how to breach the subject he knew they needed to when Gene decided to beat him to the punch.

After a bite of egg, Gene nodded toward Dick’s neck and said “There aren’t any bite marks, so I never woulda guessed.”

Dick felt the slide of ice go down his back. Straight to the point, then. He should’ve known—this guy was no nonsense. Dick shook his head. “It isn’t like that.”

Gene quirked a brow and set his fork aside. “Your lover’s a vampire, right?”

_Yes, he is. _“Nix doesn’t feed off of me. Or anyone else, for that matter. Not for a while at least. He drinks pig’s blood. He keeps it in the fridge, if you don’t believe me.” Gene regarded him steadily, face utterly unreadable. Dick sighed. “Look, I know I should’ve told you before we got here. I messed up.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Dick huffed. “You were a mess. I didn’t think we had time to waste arguing. You said you needed a place to recover that you could ward that neither Lip nor Babe know about. This is the only place I could think of, and you didn’t have any suggestions.”

Gene frowned, just slightly, and Dick could see what he thought was probably anger swirl within the dark depths of Gene’s eyes, though the man was obviously trying to hold it in check. “I was still bleedin’ last night, you know.”

Dick gulped. “I know. And I’m sorry for that. Like I said, it was a mistake. But I meant what I said last night. This isn’t a set up.”

“How am I supposed to trust that?”

The anxiety twisted. “If I wanted you dead, wouldn’t it have been easier just to let you bleed out in that bar?”

Gene’s jaw clenched, and Dick could see the rapid play of emotions flicker across his eyes. “I hardly know you.”

“I don’t know much about you, either, other than the fact that you’re apparently a really powerful witch. And still, I brought you here. I trusted you with Nix, someone who I love. So I’d say the trust has to go both ways, here.”

Gene’s jaw tightened for a moment, then he sighed, pushing the plate away from him slightly. “’M not a witch,” he murmured.

Dick snorted. “What are you, then?”

Gene locked eyes with him and Dick could swear he saw lightning in their depths. “”M a healer. I heal people.”

Dick shook his head. “I think you do a good deal more than that, or at least I sure hope you do, because we’re counting on you to get Lip and Babe back.” When Gene said nothing, Dick pointed out: “You threatened a demon yesterday.” Dick cocked his head. “Could you do it? Take him out?”

The air grew staticky, just for a moment, as Gene clenched his fist against the table, then relaxed it. “Not yet.”

Dick nodded. He’d expected something like that. “Listen, Gene. Harry says he trusts you and I trust Harry with my life. I said I’d help you, and I will. But I need you to level with me now, alright?”

Gene nodded. “Alright.”

“Can we do it? Can we get Lip and Babe back?”

Gene nodded again, and his jaw clenched. “We have to.”

“Alright. Nix and I will help you, then. Whatever you need. But you need to promise me something in return.”

Gene’s fist tightened then relaxed again. “What do you want?”

“Remember that Nix went out of his way to help you and he’s not asking for anything in return. This is hard for him, too. So, uh… no…_smiting, _of whatever it is you do.”

Gene gave a curt nod. “I will promise you that, so long as he keeps his hands to himself, too.” He reached into the collar of his shirt and fished out a crucifix. “But I’ll protect myself if I have to.”

Dick nodded. “You won’t have to, not here at least. But thank you.” They were quiet for a minute, then he asked “So are we… good?”

Gene cocked his head to the side. “You saved my life. I won’t forget that.” The smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “We’re good.”

The twisted, jagged mess in Dick’s belly began to unwind and he allowed himself to exhale. “So. Where do we start?”

Gene waved vaguely. “Gotta ward this place.”

“Are you feeling up to that?”

Gene smirked. “Oh, I’m feelin’ much betta.”

* * *

The air was cold enough that Gene could see his breath when he emerged from the house, but the sky was clear, with only the barest wisps of clouds overhead. He clutched the knife in his hand and set out toward the property boundary. 

Dick had offered to walk the lines with him, but Gene had waved him off. He needed a moment to himself after their conversation. It was foolish, maybe, to trust a stranger after everything, but he supposed that Dick was right. It wasn’t only Gene that had to trust right now. Dick’s vampire lover was asleep somewhere in the house, vulnerable in his own way, with so much to lose. And yet…they’d both welcomed Gene into this house when he’d been alone and desperate.

He wouldn’t forget it.

The property was large, secluded. Perfect for his purposes. He explored for a few minutes, then began to walk the boundaries, concentrating as he did so. When he got to the first corner, he started to murmur the warding prayer and then he clutched the knife tightly and drew it across his palm in a shallow line until the blood welled.

_Nix’s eyes shot open and he sat up in his bed, the sheets falling down his chest. His pupils widened and his heart hammered._

Gene flexed his fingers until the blood dropped into the earth at his feet. He continued with his spell then turned and walked to the next corner, where he did the same. He kept his thoughts focused, but pure, as he tread the straight line—_protect the people within this space, _he prayed, _protect us and keep the darkness out. _He reached the third corner and squeezed more blood from his fist. He felt a low hum build under his skin and he turned toward the last. He took each step solemnly, resolutely. When he reached the fourth corner, he crouched and, gazing into the distance, toward a thing he could not see yet, he pressed his bloody palm to the ground and sealed the ward, murmuring _Lewis Nixon, Richard Winters, Eugene Roe. _The ward came to life, then, rising up out of the ground and wrapping tightly around the property, a barrier that the legions of Hell couldn’t penetrate, not even if they tried. He squinted into the distance, but there was nothing there. Not yet, at least.

He raised his palm and inspected the damage—blood and dirt, but the wound was already beginning to heal. Gene tutted to himself. He’d need to bandage that.

_Nix sat in his bed, afraid to breathe, heart hammering, the scent of Gene’s blood filling his nose, filling his lungs, tempting and terrifying. He clenched his hands in the sheets and then he _felt _a low, deep rumbling that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It shook him, in isolation, as if his very blood answered. _“What the fuck?” _Nix muttered, and then suddenly the air was charged, thick with static, for an everlasting second… and then Nix was able to breathe again and the air was normal and the scent of blood had diminished._

_Nix swallowed thickly and, hands still shaking, forced himself to lie down again._

* * *

The hair rose on Dick’s arms and he regarded it curiously for a moment before he turned his attention back to where he could see Gene walking back toward the house through the window. This man had helped Dick and Lip once before. Without ever having met them, he’d crafted a ward to keep them safe from just about everything. This felt like that again, but…bigger. 

Dick shook his head. This lean, unassuming man with the dark, sad eyes was something that Dick couldn’t even hope to comprehend. It was a bit terrifying, but it also gave Dick hope. _This man _would help him to get Lip back. Dick had to believe that. And now, watching him stride confidently back toward the house, seemingly healed and healthy once more, Dick couldn’t help but wonder exactly how close to death Gene had actually come and whether it was Dick that saved his life after all, or whether he’d simply done it himself.

A moment later, Gene pushed through the front door, cradling his hand. “House is warded.” He said. Dick nodded. “Do you happen to have a bandage?” He asked.

Dick gazed to where he could still see blood welling on the other man’s hand and said “I’m sure we have something.”

It took him a few minutes rummaging in one of the medicine cabinets but he eventually found some gauze and medical tape. When he returned, he found Gene waiting in the kitchen, hand washed and ready to be wrapped. “Thanks,” Gene said, reaching for the bandage, but Dick knew it’d be awkward to do with one hand so he gave Gene a look and shook his head slightly.

“Let me.” Gene glanced up, surprised, but he didn’t protest when Dick took his hand and began to wrap it in the bandage. As he worked, Dick asked “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Gene murmured.

“Heal so fast.” Dick nodded toward Gene’s hand. “It’s not even bleeding anymore.”

Gene shrugged. “I pray a lot. God decided to help me out.”

Dick quirked a brow. “No, really.”

Gene snorted. “Really.” He shook his head. “My grandmother. My mother. They were healers. A craft, maybe. Or somethin’ in our blood. I dunno. When I was a boy, they taught me how to pray and heal people who needed it.” He motioned toward his hand. “This healin’ myself thing is relatively new, though.” He shook his head sadly. “Never used to be able to do that.”

Dick finished wrapping Gene’s hand then patted it softly. “All done.”

Gene inspected it for a moment. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Dick sat the leftover supplies on the table. “I have something to show you.”

Gene cocked his head. “Alright,” he drawled, cautious, but he followed Dick when he moved out of the room and down the hall to a room he’d spent little time in so far.

With Gene crowded close behind him, Dick pushed the door open and stepped aside to reveal a large room: it’s walls were lined with shelves, stuffed with books. A long table surrounded by mis-matched chairs took up the center of the room. The table was piled thick with books, stack upon stack. Dick waved at them. “These are from Harry’s library—everything they had on demons and magic. I had Nix pick them up for us.” He smiled and turned to Gene. “Think this’ll help?”

Gene’s eyes were wide, taking in the sight with hope and awe. He nodded and turned to meet Dick’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said, swallowing thickly, “it’ll do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! Please drop me a line and let me know what you thought of the chapter. Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid. :)


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